


You Better Watch Out

by jdphoenix



Series: Gold and Green [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-18
Updated: 2011-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-27 11:43:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna sneaks downstairs to see Santa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Better Watch Out

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during Christmas of book seven. If it flies in the face of established canon, please use some Christmas magic to make yourself forget for a few hundred words.

Luna had always been a light sleeper. Her father would tell her that even as an infant all the muffling charms in the world were not enough to keep the lightest sound from waking her. This did not change as she got older, though she did get better at pretending to be asleep. Thus, on Christmas Day at twenty-five minutes past midnight, her eyes snapped open. Someone was downstairs.

It was not a Death Eater, she knew. For one, a Death Eater would not be tiptoeing about. For another, even Death Eaters had to have standards and she certainly hoped one of those was to honor Christmas. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was certainly smart enough to understand that sending his forces into homes on Christmas Eve night meant possibly running into the man himself. With that thought, Luna slipped out of bed, pulled a worn shawl from the end of her bed, and headed downstairs.

It had been many years since she'd done this. The last few years she'd spent at Hogwarts with her friends where the house-elves delivered presents. This year she'd felt compelled to come home, just in case, and she was eager to see her old friend again.

She skipped lightly down the last steps to the ground floor and around the corner into the sitting room where their tree sat and their stockings hung over the mantle. She stumbled to a halt, nearly going head over heels in her surprise. The fire was low in the grate but it was enough to see that the figure wrestling with her Christmas tree was not a short, overweight man, but a thin, tall figure.

"Who are you?" she asked sharply.

The figure jumped in shock and shoved the tree away. The ornaments tinkled as they swayed and more than one fell with a crash to the wood floor.

The wand the figure had pulled on her lowered. "Lovegood, Luna," he sighed, sounding as if he was reading a list. "Sixteen. Believer. Good. As if one of Potter's friends would be anything else."

"Blaise Zabini?" Luna asked. What was he doing in her house? She almost doubted her estimation of Voldemort's intelligence but then remembered that there had been much conversation about Death Eaters and students and Slytherins among the Hogwarts gossip chain that year. They were in almost complete agreement that there was only one student bearing the Dark Mark. Then she saw the sack at his feet and the half-filled stockings over the fire. "You're Father Christmas?" she asked, genuinely intrigued.

He reeled back a bit, surprised. "I- what- how did you know?"

She walked around the couch and took a seat. "It's obvious, don't you think?"

"Is it?"

She blinked. No one ever asked her to explain herself, excusing her father of course. The other Ravenclaws simply carried on with whatever they were discussing, usually as if she'd never spoken at all, and her friends tended to agree a bit too readily.

"The bag, for one," she said, wondering if this was how Hermione felt. "It's the night before Christmas and I can't think of any other reason a stranger would be in my house. You got past the wards. I admit the coat confused me for a moment, I do like the color change though, it suits you better than the red would have. And, most important of all, you have crumbs from my cookies on your collar."

Blaise irritably brushed at his deep green coat and fell into her father's armchair. "I inherited the title last year. I'd always thought being born on Christmas was the universe's joke - mother only has to remember one date instead of two - little did I know how much of a joke it really was."

"You don't enjoy it?"

"I'd rather be sleeping, honestly, and I don't exactly enjoy knowing instantly whether every Tom, Dick, and Harry I pass on the street is naughty or nice. Speaking of, you can tell Potter I don't care what list he's on, he's getting coal for the rest of his life for getting me into this mess."

"It isn't his fault Flamel decided to pass on."

He waved this off absently and settled deeper into the chair. He began playing idly with the chain of the time-turner around his neck while he considered her. His gaze travelled up and down her, from her bare toes to the shawl that seemed much more thin now than it did a moment ago. As a slow smile curved his lips, she felt it only polite to stop him.

"That look doesn't even work for Draco Malfoy anymore, I don't know why you think you'll have better luck with it."

He chuckled. "It did answer a question that's been on my mind for a while though." She wasn't sure she wanted to know what question that was exactly but was saved from deciding when he said, "You still believe in Father Christmas." It wasn't a question but the frown on his face was so confused that she decided to take pity on him.

"Nicolas Flamel used to share the cookies with me when I would sneak down to watch him."

"You knew my esteemed relative?"

"Don't all children know Father Christmas?"

"Touché."

The silence stretched between them. Luna glanced at the clock on the mantle, wondering if Blaise really had time to lounge about her sitting room.

"What is wrong with your tree?" he asked suddenly.

"It's a Muggle tree. They make fake ones. Nargles get confused as the atmosphere becomes saturated with carols in December and are known to mistake Christmas trees for giant mistletoe."

Blaise stared at her for several seconds and she thought he was going to shrug this off the way her friends so often did.

"Good idea. You have no idea how many people keep mistletoe over their mantles. Those nargles are murder."

She stifled a giggle as he rubbed at the back of his neck. "Shouldn't you be going?" she asked.

"Jeez, when even Loony Lovegood gets tired of your company…" He slapped his palms on the arms of the chair and pushed himself up.

"I never said I was tired of your company," she said, rising as well, "but it's impolite to open presents while Father Christmas is still in your house."

He paused, bent in half to heave the sack over his shoulder, and turned his head to blink at her. Slowly, he smiled. This time she was happy to see it was genuine.

He stopped before the fireplace, his eyes on the stockings, still only half-full. "I'm running a bit behind, even with this thing-" He tugged the chain of his time-turner- "would you mind if I just owl you the rest of your gifts?"

"That's not exactly in the spirit of things," she said, stepping up beside him. "You can deliver the rest when you're finished with everyone else. I'll be sure father saves some of Christmas dinner for you." She rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek and spun away to skip back up the stairs.

"What was that for?" Blaise's voice followed her up the stairs but when she turned she saw he hadn't followed her.

"It's not fair to get the nargles and none of the reward. Especially on Christmas and especially for Santa Claus. See you at dinner."


End file.
